


The Ghost Boy Who Bends Me Over

by signatureessencee



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29801232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signatureessencee/pseuds/signatureessencee
Summary: Sarah's been intrigued by paranormal activity her whole life. Now she was about to live it."It's yours, huh? I don't think that's what I wanted you to say," He abruptly lets go of my hair and brings his hand up much higher before bringing it down and roughly rubbing my ass so that it'd jiggle in his open palm, causing me to struggle against his death grip to my own grave disappointment. "So right now, you're gonna repeat it. But this time, I want you to tell me that you're mine. You can do that, yeah?"(Cover for the time being sucks. Will make a better one when I've got time.)(this is not a deserted book. please don't let the low number of chapters scare you away)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. ”I bet you fantasize about this, yeah?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It’s me! Moved from wattpad! This is the character introduction squeezed into the beginning of chapter one! Also will not be using the pics(Temporarily) because I don’t have them and can’t remember what exactly I searched to find them.
> 
> Bradley Simpson(google him) will be portraying Dean Lowet, 22
> 
> Maia Mitchell(google her) will be portraying Sarah Kingsley, 17  
> If you really want to see the pictures and gifs(They do make the story feel more like the story)check out the book on wattpad @Signatureessencee. So far there are 25 chapters. This will be updated a tad slower than Wattpads version. Once we get to chapter 25 on here, it will ONLY be updated on here(for now)

After a long day of arranging my personal items in my new place of living, I was beat. There weren't many who moved to a alleged haunted house, but then again, I wasn't many. And after staying up all day trying to listen to the smallest creak of a board, or scream of a ghost child, I decided to settle in my bed. Disappointed, yes. But I was in a much different mood now.

  
  


My laptop was opened to pornhub as I lay in my new bed, pulling my pink comforter up to my chest as my laptop sat on my knees. I look for videos, and trust me, I am left looking for a while. But finally I click one, and it begins.

" Sydney!" called a young looking man, perhaps about 26. He had dark messy hair and stubble scattered along his jaw and chin.

Immediately, a girl in grey sweats, a grey tank top, and her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail comes into frame.

"Yes, sir?" She mumbles meekly, 

I begin to imagine myself in this position, and the thought brings a pulsing sensation between my legs,

"I thought I told you you were being punished for cumming on your own last time? Come here." He pulls her by her arm, and over his lap as he sat on a nicely made bed. He takes no time to pull down her sweats, and her underwear, revealing a nice shapely aśs.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaks out, but he begins landing smacks on each of her cheeks. One of his hands were able to hold both of hers while the other landed smacks. 

I absolutely loved the pornos that skipped all the terrible acting and got straight to the point. I watch with intrigue wishing it were me struggling within his grip,

  
  


"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She pleads, but each of the smacks came nice and steady, no signs of stopping and time soon. He's alternating cheeks, doing the same strength smacks until he begins speeding up as she struggles some more. The sound of the smack echoing throughout the room is crystal clear.

The sound of the smacks caused me to grow very warm down below as I clenched my thighs together. I was never really the type to touch myself beneath the sheets in these moments. I never really learned how to pleasure myself, but the feeling of being turned on alone was enough for me.

  
  


" How about we create a similar scene, right here." I jolt upwards at the sound of a smooth British accent. Well sure, I'd moved from America to Birmingham, so an accent like that is expected, but not in my house at 2am!

I slam my laptop closed and toss it onto the other side of the bed. I see what might be a boy sitting on the cushion bench in-front of my curtains, and when I blink, he's still there.

  
  


"Wh-who are you? I'll call the cops." My voice shakes, I could feel and hear my heart beating like an instrument. I pull the covers upward, but I knew I couldn't cover my head and he'd be gone just like that.

The boy walks over to the lamp by the side of my bed and it illuminates the room. I scoot over, but he sits on my bed.

  
  


"Honey, the cops won't come anywhere near this property. You're the first one brave enough in over a decade to move here. Especially with the rumors about this house. And the price and all?" He picks up my lap top and flicks it open. Immediately the video from before plays, and I watch with a rapid-beating-heart as he watches the video with intrigue, bottom lip between his teeth.

"I'd bet you fantasize about this, yeah? Wish someone would handle you this way?" He questions with a smirk, turning the computer toward me so that I could see how the man in the video was roughly adjusting her over his lap. I keep having the need to clench my legs shut, and I can't hide it from him.

  
  


" Who are you?" I ask again, reaching for my laptop only for it to be held out of reach. The makes the tsk tsk tsk sound, leaning backward with his hand on the bed, face turned toward me.

  
  


"Dean Lowet, born in 1984, killed here in 2006. Now, are you going to crawl over my lap or would you prefer I make you. I'm thinking such a kinky girl like you would prefer the latter, yeah?"

  
  



	2. ”Love I live here”

"W-what? That can't be. You couldn't be here if- You're shitting me." I still pull away because while he may not be a supernatural entity, he was still a person in my house who was verbally harassing me. So either way, I was shítting bricks.

  
  


"Love, didn't you move here with the hopes of seeing a ghost? And now that you've seen one and you think it's bullshít." He places the laptop down on the bed, and I close my eyes hoping that he'd be gone when I opened them. How would this man know this particular reason for why I moved here? Was he stalking me?! Calm down. Almost any one who willingly moves into a place like this is either a.cheap, or b. searching for ghosts. Everybody knows that.

  
  


"Please get out." I jump up from my bed as fast as a cat jumps from the floor to the couch. There's an amused glint in his eye as he makes no move to leave. He just seems to be waiting for me to make a move and when I don't? He crawls across the bed toward me and before I know it, he's directly in front of me, and we're almost in like a standoff. I'm left standing stiff as a board as he stares at me, eyes unmoving, "Me? Get out? Love, I live here. Why don't you get out, hm?", he pokes a finger at my chest. I step back and fold my arms, analyzing this boy. I wasn't sure if I liked him. But I did want him out though.

  
  


"You can't make me." I retort childishly, taking another step away from him. I mean his house? He had to be kidding me. He seems to analyze the space between us, grinning before taking a step forward, enjoying the way I jump at his sudden movement. I tried to think about anything else but I just keep remembering how he's offered to bend me over his lap. It'd be a sèxy dream come true if it were someone I knew. Maybe it was sexy anyway. But also, reasonably, I was scared of him.

A ghost, I smirk at the thought. How dumb did he think I'd be? Him? A ghost. I watched the little things, like his breathing, his blinking, and even his body language. All seemed pretty human-ish to me. There was no way I'd ever encounter a ghost in this lifetime.

  
  


"Oh really", his expression is no longer cocky, or amused, or playful. Now it's begun to get dark, almost sinister, "Love, I think deep down inside you know that I can make you do lots of things." He steps forward, staring at me evilly from below his eyelids. At this point, there's no more arguing with this stranger. I had to get away from him. 

I try to run past him but his hand quickly snakes around my waist, pulling me back as he sat on my bed and pulled me over his lap like the man in the video had done to the woman. His hand easily held my hands behind my back and pinned them down pretty well.

  
  


"Babe, I think we know better than to run." He grits through his teeth, quickly finding his way to my light pink pajama shorts, pulling them down. I squirm in his grip but he was fùcking stronger than Jason. My heart was beating fast and I was out of breath, and thats when he hit me.

Smack.

The sound was muffled sort of with the blockage of my cotton panties, and I felt my lower region start pulsing like how it did when I watched porn.

The smacks are steady but a bit mild as he smacks each of my buttcheeks from the bottom, almost as if he was intentionally jiggling each one with the its.

"My, what a nice áss you've got..." He trails, his strong hand jiggling one of my buttcheeks roughly as his large hand picks up and he smacks me again much harder this time around, "You know this is mine, yeah? I wanna hear you say it." He roughly rubs my aśs, causing my to bite my lip and shut my eyes in embarrassment.

"It's yours." I squeak out, keeping my eyes closed, hoping it'd make him leave me alone. It I know better when he pulls my head backward my my ponytail and leans down by my ear,

  
  


"It's yours, huh? I don't think that's what I wanted you to say," He abruptly lets go of my hair and brings his hand up much higher before, bringing it down and roughly rubbing my ass so that it'd jiggle in his open palm, causing me to struggle against his death grip to my own grave disappointment. "So right now, you're gonna repeat it. But this time, I want you to tell me that you're mine. You can do that, yeah?" He says in a way that I can't describe. Like he knew his power over me and wanted to live in it. Like he planned to treat me like this for days. Weeks. Months. But I'd soon be able to call the police on him. Then he'd be sorry.

  
  


I just say what he wants me to say, "I'm yours." And as soon as I say so, he brings two fingers down to my area and strokes me softly over my panties, turning the feeling down there into torture.

  
  


"Good girl." He compliments, bringing his hand back up to my áss, finishing the work he'd started. The hits getting harder and harder, and me being unable to do nothing but struggle in his grip and plead and cry. When he does stop, he roughly tosses me onto the bed like I was some luggage, leaving me to cry into my bed sheets.

And as if that torture that left my ass on fire wasn't enough, he says something he knew that in this moment he could say and it'd definitely some how embarrass me much much more. Which although it seemed impossible, it definitely wasn't.

  
  


"Your mine now. Cool with that?"


	3. ”Oh Darling, you make this too easy”

Somehow, I'd managed to fall asleep, but let me tell you, the feeling of waking up and instantly remembering what I'd gone through was a terrible one. And it didn't feel like a dream.

  
  


I found myself aimlessly searching the house with my cellphone flashlight, every corner, every closet. The boy's face had never left my mind, and he wasn't anywhere around here. I might have thought it was a dream if it wasn't for the stinging sensation I felt on my aśs. And I hadn't seen the boy throughout the whole house so I thought in the morning I'd have a security system installed.

If I went to the police, I feel like somehow my mom would find out and I didn't need that right now. After she was over being hysterical over what happened to me, she would say I told you so in regards to me moving to another damn country for a bit. Especially because I thought I'd stumble upon some damn ghosts.

  
  


So the morning came, and I called a security company, and at first they sounded hesitant about coming over, but ultimately through begging, I convinced them.

  
  


"So um, ma'am, this security system can be monitored for your cellphone, or your laptop. And if it is triggered and not disabled within 6 minutes, the police will be alerted." The man handed me a receipt and my chest fell when I saw the price,

  
  


"Three hundred dollars?!" I exclaim, looking the the man with shock across my face. He nods simply and responds, " Plus the installation fee of 100 and the travel fee of 200. How would you like to-" but amidst this shocking statement, a familiar voice is heard behind me from the stairs area.

  
  


"Oh, she won't be paying for any of that. Thank you for your assistance sir." The man who'd spanked me last night steps into view, snatching the receipt from my hand, ripping it up. The installation man begins to stutter, "Wh-what? Someone has to pay for it-" he stammers, and I am able to step back from the whole ordeal. How could I tell the contractor that this man is the reason I got the system? How did he even get in again?

My breathing picks up and I feel as if I'm hyperventilating, " No, sir. Nobody will. Enjoy your day." Dean smiles sinisterly, and something about the way he stared at the man had him shook up. Quickly, the man was gone without a word, and Dean's turned toward me.

  
  
  
  


"See, darling? I may mostly just spank you when we spend time together, but I've always got you in any other way you need. It wasn't too smart of you to think you could get rid of me. I won't trigger a security system, but you have triggered something inside of me." He steps toward me ever so slightly, the sinister look causing me to want to miraculously disappear out of here.

"Y-yeah? And what's that?" I stutter, backing up until I was backed up into the old wooden living room.

"Anger. Disappointment. Mostly anger." He chuckles as I find myself backed into dusty wooden wall, "Tell me, Sarah. You know about the basement, right? That it's unfurnished?" He pauses, staring at me as he looked into the distance thoughtfully. I had a million questions I wanted to ask him. Like how he got in, or how he got that man to leave just by looking at him, or how he knew my name. But. I was too in shock to even cry.

  
  


He slams his hand on the wall and leans into my ear with a whisper, "Well, you know, I've had plenty of time on my hands. And so I've went ahead and furnished it myself. I think you'll be the first guest down there, yeah?" He steps back with a smile, holding his hands out for me, "I don't want to have to force you. That'll tire me out and ironically I become completely insatiable and energized when that happens, and you don't want to be punished for the rest of the day, now do you?" He wavers his hand out and I take it, knowing for a fact that he felt my hand shaking in his.

I guess at this point, I thought I'd be murdered and somehow I accepted that. The only explanation I'd come up with for how he knew his way around this house so well was that he was a squatter, but then I remember how we was able to scare that man off with just a look and I started to think maybe he was a ghost. But my mind is completely done wandering when we reach the basement.

  
  


The walls were matte black and painted red toward the top and there were things I recognized from pòrn throughout the room besides the large bed smack in the middle. Like a row of three torture chairs, a bar I assume you bend over, some strange device with a spreader bar for your ankles, cuffs dangling from the ceiling. The wall held instruments that usually were used for torture or spanking, and quickly I turn to run but her grabs my arm and stops me.

I'd always thought being in a situation like this would be great, but all I wanted to do was faint. My heart beats rapidly at the thought of him forcing me to be punished down here, I didn't know how I'd get out of this situation.

  
  


"Running? Again? Tsk. Tsk. Oh darling, you make this too easy."

  
  



	4. ”Is This Not Enough For You?”

" Now, before I decide on how I'll be punishing you, would you like to try and make it up to me?" He begins undoing his belt but with my words, I quickly stop him.

"Wh-what do you have in mind?" I think of all the possibilities that he may have in mind. Me sûcking him off maybe? How would that even happen? If he were a ghost, how come I could feel his touch? It just didn't make sense.

  
  
  


" Tell me, do you think you can handle rough sèx? Giving me complete control of your actions and body?" He pulls his belt through the loops and tosses it to the ground like it was nothing. His strong hands find its way to my jaw and he squeezes it slightly, his eyes staring deeply into mine, " And the alternative?" I ask, feeling oddly turned on by his words. To be honest, I'd like to submit to him. Maybe it was the heat of the moment, but I didn't care.

  
  


He leans into my ear, " Well maybe I'll bend you over, spread your legs, restrain you, and have my way with you anyway." He grazes his bottom lip against my earlobe 

, "Make your choice fast, baby. I'm growing impatient" his voice grows desperate, and my body does too. I feel more turned on than I've ever felt, and I lean in to kiss him, obviously not in my right frame of mind.

  
  


But he places his hand on my throat leaving just a small amount of space between our lips, "I don't think you understand this game, baby." He desperately kisses me and guides me to the large bed in the middle of the room. He pushes me onto my stomach and climbs over me, leaning over to the side of my face leaving sweet, rough kisses on my skin. He helped to adjust me so that I was on my hands and knees and he guides me to put my torso closer to the bed and my âss higher. When he does this he removes my panties and shorts in one swift motion.

He drags his fingers lightly across my back before I feel him get off of the bed and hear him pulling off his pants, " I'm assuming you've done this before?" He asks me, when suddenly, I come to my senses. What was I letting him do? I try and get off the bed, but he grabs me by my ankle.

"What are you doing?" I ask, losing all of my séxual drive. I couldn't believe I almost willingly let that happen. He responds simply, "I'll assume not." He says calmly, pulling me back by my ankle as I desperately clawed at the red-satin- sheets to no avail. Somehow he flips me onto my back, keeping both of my hands held above my head, " You haven't had rough séx or you haven't had séx period? Because you're making me feel bad about this. And I'm a fùcking fùrious ghost who's enjoyed everything I've done both in my lifetime, and while being dead." He face palms with his free hand but shakes his head and quickly returns his intense gaze. At this angle, he looks incredibly hot.

  
  


"I've had sèx, it was just boringly gentle. I haven't since." I say, cursing myself for saying boringly gentle. I know by his raised eyebrow that he was pleasantly shocked so I quickly change the subject, "Wh-why do you keep saying you're a ghost?" I whisper quietly, following his right hand as he brings it to my clothed chest, He sits me up and pulls it over my head. Mindlessly I let him.

"Because I am one. I'm going to only prove this to you once. And once I do, I don't want there to be any speaking between us. I want what I've been deprived of for twelve years," He nods curtly before stepping away from me, looking down at the ground. I don't suppose he wanted me to say anything even now, so I just watch him with intrigue. What the hell was he about to pull to "prove" he was a ghost?

I watch carefully as he begins to fade lighter, more transparent, right in front of me, and then? He's gone.

  
  


" I'm either in physical form, or I'm not. That's why the police are no use to you. You just listen to me and you'll be fine." His voice is closer to me but now, bewildered, I feel all around the bed for a form desperate for an explanation but I don't feel him. I sit upright and still, I'm speechless.

  
  
  


"Love, If Hollywood movies have gotten anything right, it's that you can't touch a ghost you can't see." I watch as he fades into view and he's facing me with an elbow propped up on the bed, "You can see me now. Would you like to touch me, or should I go first?" He asks seductively and rhetorically, as he straddles me and pushes me onto my back. I'm left in shock staring at him and I don't move so he takes this opportunity to bring his lips to my neck, sücking ever so gently at my skin.

I shut my eyes, where's the good part? I say to myself, but he responds,

"Is this not enough for you, baby?" He questions, stepping away from me, removing his underwear. Had I said that out loud? I still watch when out comes a big member, one even me, the girl with one experience, was sure of. It leaves me shocked and it leaves a smirk on his face. 

Before I know it, he's over me, and holds my hands above my head again, his other hand guiding himself to my entrance. As he goes in, the pain is horrifying, but I didn't want to stop. I assumed with me having had séx once, It'd be easier the next time. Either he was just really big, or I was really wrong.

I wince in pain, but he doesn't stop. He just keeps entering me, super slow. It was almost as if he cared for me.

I look up at his face and I can tell he's concentrating so hard on being careful, "It's taking everything in me to not fûck the shít out of you. You're so fùcking wet and yet, it's a bit of a challenge getting inside you. It's clear that you haven't felt a díck this big." He whispers, still seemingly still concentrating on his speed, "But towards the end of the night, to you, the pain won't matter." He continues, and I don't say anything. I just shut my eyes, arching my back up off of the bed as he began going the slightest bit faster. I loved the feeling of him inside me. I just couldn't say it.

His thrusts are very slow, almost as slow as my first boyfriend has done. But he was right, I've never felt a díck as big as his. That made this experience very different.

Soon he's going faster and faster, the grip he had on my wrists growing stronger. He picked up speed until he was poûnding into me, not every inch fitting inside of me. I was still in terrible pain, but the feeling of him going into me with this force was one that made things better.

"How can you be this fücking tight?!" He mumbles, but I know that he wasn't speaking directly to me. How have you lasted so long I think to return, because my first time, the boy lasted for about 25 seconds tops. But I don't question it.

  
  


He begins poûnding into me at first slower, and then faster, alternating speeds, "Who's body is this?" He grunts, suddenly going faster again.

  
  


"Yours." I moan to keep in the moment, not knowing how this was realistically happening. I hardly knew him! Not to mention he was a fùcking ghost. And I believed it now.

  
  


"What princess? Who do you belong to? Say the full sentence," He fücks me harder and faster, the subtle discomfort below meaning nothing to me. After asking me that question, he places his hand over my mouth, leaving me to mumbled behind it.

  
  
  
  


"What'd you say, baby?" He smirks, removing his hand off of my mouth. Now he was going the fastest he'd ever, and I shut my eyes at the pleasure of being rocked against the bed this way.

" Fuck daddy. You. I belong to you." I pant out, as I feel him come inside me. Slowly, he pulls out of me and falls on his back beside me. I felt incredibly numb down there, and the pulsing sensation wouldn't go away. It was like I still needed something more.

  
  


He turns his head toward me with a satisfied grin, his voice coming out as a sort of a hoarse whisper, "Daddy?"

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gif I used for him after he said “daddy?” was PERFECT. Wish I could find it. If you want to see it go check out the book on wattpad @signatureessencee


	5. ”This isn’t an agreement, it never was”

Attached. I never thought I'd be ever again. Especially not to some ghost boy who makes me obey his every word. For the past two weeks, he's taught me plenty of things. He's also bent me over his lap just because that was what he was in the mood for.

  
  
  


He cuddled with me, woke me up with the smell of breakfast, and even amazingly recreated that first time we had séx. Each time, it got better, and better, and better.

  
  


The morning after the first time was so awkward, I couldn't even look him in the eye.

"Daddy, huh?" He'd repeat so often just because he knew it drove me insane and embarrassed me to no return. Often he'd be walking past me, and he'd slap my asś, gripping it possessively. When I did my online schooling, I didn't get a break either.

"Fùck daddy. Uhhh." He'd mock things I said in the heat of sex. Whether I was studying, on the phone, or even at the sink brushing my teeth. His first impression wasn't such a playful, teasing guy. He'd even get distant at times, angry, but most of the time he felt like an ideal boyfriend.

  
  
  


Today though, I had an important online test, and I think that he'd made me fail.

  
  


"Oh princess, so help me. You fail this test and your ass is mine." He stands at the doorway, waiting for 12:30 for when the results were due to come, "And trust me, you won't like it."

Part of me got excited when he talked dirty to me, even if this were my second week of knowing him. But I got a bit more annoyed with him bothering me just so he'd have a valid excuse to punish me.

"How about you just shush until the results come." My leg bounces because of my nerves. It was extremely important for me to pass this test. It determined whether I pass or fail the class and have to take it again. He knew that.

  
  


" How about I punish you regardless of the results?" He snorts, walking over the bed where I sat. I was faced down on my stomach with my computer in front of me, so he easily sat beside me facing the opposite way. He placed his hand on my áss and brought it up, slamming it down like he'd done last nights . He repeated it a few times before getting bored, " Your puśsy must be so sore from last night. I think you'd like a break, yeah?" He rubs me there roughly through my shorts and I wince in pain, recalling when he'd randomly began spanking me downthere as we kissed after he fùcked me. The combination of his dīck, and his hits made for strong discomfort later on.

  
  


He leans down by my ear in the way that raised the hairs on the back of my neck, and gasped a little, "Or maybe, we can find other ways of punishing you. And love, I'm not sure you'd like any of them." He begins, coincidentally, my email sends me a notification right after. He reaches over me for the laptop and I groan, remaining silent as he went to check the email.

"Baby... a fourty-five out of 100? You'll have to repeat the class now!" He fakes disappointment, shutting the laptop closed. I don't say a word, I just shut my eyes more anxious for what he'd do than about the class.

" Get up and get on your fùcking knees." He stands up and sort of guides me by my hair to the ground keeping my hair in his hand. When I'm on my knees, I know the routine. I was to undo his jeans and pull down his underwear.

Once I did, he took no time to push himself into my mouth, thrusting his hips into my face while also pulling my head along his length. I beginning to choke, but that's never phased him. He keeps at his pace, and if I'm honest, I enjoyed being forced by him into doing things. But this time just wasn't my fault. It was his!

He pulls himself out of my mouth and roughly pushes me onto the bed so that I'm face down. He begins pulling my shorts down before positioning me so that my aśs was in the air. Anxiously I rest on my forearms, afraid to be fùcked as hard as I was last night. I was already aching down there.

  
  


His strong hands pulled my aśscheeks apart and he reached around and stuck his finger into my mouth before going back to what he was doing. But shock corses through my body when I feel him begin to gently push my aśshole with his fingers.

"Dean, I told you I wasn't down to do that." My voice quivers but I stay still because in the end, he's hurt me so much worse. I continue to feel his finger push inside me before he realizes what I said, and has walked away to my relief.

  
  


"Now, Love, about that, you're right. But this isn't an agreement, it never was. I think you know better than to waste your breath now, hm?" He says was he's opened the closet, sounding all too distracted by what he was searching for. But when he returns, I hear him open the cap of something and seconds later, he spreads a cool gel like wetness on my aśs. My heart races and tears come down my face, but I remain in the position he's put me in.

"Now normally," I feel suddenly his díck against me, rubbing up and down against my aśshole, "I'd prep, you know, butt plugs, anal beads. But I think we need for this one to hurt, yes? Do you feel as if I'm being unfair?" He continues rubbing himself against my hole, causing my heart to sink. I knew this would hurt, like hell. I could feel the size difference between him and my hole, but he didn't care.

  
  


"Y-y-yes," I breathe, being honest with him. He's told me how much he loved honesty, I guess this time was different.

  
  


"You know? I don't think this'll be enough of a lesson for you. I think your pussy's break? It's over."

  
  
  


**6:”Fear is what holds people back”**

This is one of the séx scenes I'm going to skip, partially because wattpad doesn't like too many non/con things, even though this is consensual non/con between them. Hard to explain... Anyways, the other reason is definitely not because I don't know how to write an anal scene or have no desire in writing one that hurts! pft

  
  
  
  


It's been 3 days since I've been so brutally punished and I've decided to invite some internet friends over, but as I hung up my phone I'm met my Dean who grabs me by my jaw.

  
  


"You having company in my house?" He mutters with a deep intimidating tone, the squeeze of his fingers on my cheeks getting harder and harder. I roll my eyes at his need to call this house his. I mean sure, he was a ghost. He lived here first. But I paid to live here. This was my house. I try to walk away but his death grip on me was just too strong. He smirked at the millionth display of proof that I was no match for him and he had all of the power over me. I knew how much that turned him on and put him in the mood.

When I don't answer, he let's go of my jaw and snakes a hand around me and slapped my panty clad aśs and grabs it roughly. He stares into my soul as his fingers found their way over the part of my underwear in front of my sore âsshole. He lightly presses on it, glancing seductively at his arm, then back into my eyes. He liked to study my reaction to the things he did, bask in it.

  
  
  


"Yes, I've invited my friends over." I breathe, feeling a shaky breath come out as I was afraid of what he'd do to me. I didn't know why I was so afraid of him so suddenly, especially with the fact not being due to him being a ghost.

  
  


"Babe, you've been different. You don't seem to enjoy my company. Our encounters. Do you perhaps have plans to tell anybody?" He replies in suspicion, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. He began pushing me so that I was sat on the bed, towering over me in the terrifying way he'd done times before.

  
  


"No..." I immediately think of what telling on him could do. I mean, I did sort of like it at first. But now I felt like a prisoner. He hasn't let me leave the house ever since I've moved in. He was someone I feared which is strange coming from a girl who went seeking ghosts. Would telling somebody help me out? I wondered.

  
  


"Tell me, how do I know babe? You aren't into the things we do. Not like you'd been at first." He pouts, crouching down so that we'd be eye level. My breathing picks up as I feel his eyes staring way into my soul. I felt like just by doing this, he knew everything about me. He raises his eyebrows at me once he wasn't given a response and smirks like he really did know everything. He brings his hand up to my face and slaps it softly, but enough to invoke fear in me.

  
  


"Oh please. Your mouth has done more for me than utter a simple response in a conversation. I know that you can do it. Are you into it? Am I reading wrong?" He pouts, eyes never once leaving mine. He drags his hands up and down my thighs, making me want to melt. In a bad way. No matter how my body reacted to him, I knew that he was too scary for me to enjoy being taunted by.

  
  


"I am." I mutter, clenching my jaw making sure I looked anywhere but him. My response was short, brief, very clear. But he didn't believe it.

  
  
  


"You're lying to me, Sarah. I think I have to teach you a little lesson before your friends get here, hm? You know, make sure you be a obedient little girl and keep your mouth shut?" He uses his position of his hands on my thighs to boost himself up to a standing position, walking away from me. I knew that whenever he'd walk away, when he'd come back it'd be hell for me. Whether he was grabbing a tool, or deciding how i'd be punished. I didn't want to be today. I just wanted to live peacefully.

  
  


"Please, sir. You don't have to punish me again to assure I won't tell anybody. I would never." I squeak out, tears welling in my eyes. Maybe this was it then. Maybe this was my life. Being kept a miserable puppet attached to his strings. I didn't know why he was so hell bent on me not telling anybody. He knew that he couldn't be harmed by any life forces. Maybe this was just a power tactic.

  
  
  


He stops dead in his tracks, turning on his heels. He stalks back over toward me and holds his hands out for me to grab. Thinking of my peace and my safety today I take his hands and stand to my feet, limbs shaking from fear.

As I stand up, he stares into my eyes, his own seeming to soften. He does this for a while, perhaps still attempting to figure me out.

  
  


"You're scared of me. That's what it is." He concludes, pressing his forehead lightly against mine before pulling it back in order to get a better look at me. He seems to say this with no emotion. He wasn't upset or shocked at this hypothesis. More like pleased.

  
  


I gulp, not responding, "You're afraid I'll push you onto that bed and spânk you until you're kícking and crÿing, begging for mercy. You're scared that after, I'll fùck the shīt out of you—which you secretly enjoy— until you're throbbing down there from the ache of orgasming so much and so hard that you can't even count it or realize it." He holds my hands tighter, pushing me back to sit on the bed with his knee. I curse myself for the pleasure I felt from his dírty talk. The way it awakened me below which I felt no words of the sort should ever.

  
  


"You're scared of admitting to the pleasure, the thrill, the anxiety that all of this brings you. You're afraid that you like it, only because it seems taboo to you." He pushes me onto my back not straddling me like I thought came next. Instead he glides his hands along my hip bone, and up to my stomach sending shivers down my spine. The way he slowly feels beneath my shirt gives me goosebumps as I shut my eyes in shame. Maybe he was right. Right about everything.

  
  
  


"But darling, fear is what holds people back. If you want to be free? Be happy? What you've got to do is forget the fear. Let it go."

  
  



	6. ”Fear is what holds people back”

It's been 3 days since I've been so brutally punished and I've decided to invite some internet friends over, but as I hung up my phone I'm met my Dean who grabs me by my jaw.

"You having company in my house?" He mutters with a deep intimidating tone, the squeeze of his fingers on my cheeks getting harder and harder. I roll my eyes at his need to call this house his. I mean sure, he was a ghost. He lived here first. But I paid to live here. This was my house. I try to walk away but his death grip on me was just too strong. He smirked at the millionth display of proof that I was no match for him and he had all of the power over me. I knew how much that turned him on and put him in the mood.

When I don't answer, he let's go of my jaw and snakes a hand around me and slapped my panty clad aśs and grabs it roughly. He stares into my soul as his fingers found their way over the part of my underwear in front of my sore âsshole. He lightly presses on it, glancing seductively at his arm, then back into my eyes. He liked to study my reaction to the things he did, bask in it.

"Yes, I've invited my friends over." I breathe, feeling a shaky breath come out as I was afraid of what he'd do to me. I didn't know why I was so afraid of him so suddenly, especially with the fact not being due to him being a ghost.

"Babe, you've been different. You don't seem to enjoy my company. Our encounters. Do you perhaps have plans to tell anybody?" He replies in suspicion, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. He began pushing me so that I was sat on the bed, towering over me in the terrifying way he'd done times before.

"No..." I immediately think of what telling on him could do. I mean, I did sort of like it at first. But now I felt like a prisoner. He hasn't let me leave the house ever since I've moved in. He was someone I feared which is strange coming from a girl who went seeking ghosts. Would telling somebody help me out? I wondered.

"Tell me, how do I know babe? You aren't into the things we do. Not like you'd been at first." He pouts, crouching down so that we'd be eye level. My breathing picks up as I feel his eyes staring way into my soul. I felt like just by doing this, he knew everything about me. He raises his eyebrows at me once he wasn't given a response and smirks like he really did know everything. He brings his hand up to my face and slaps it softly, but enough to invoke fear in me.

"Oh please. Your mouth has done more for me than utter a simple response in a conversation. I know that you can do it. Are you into it? Am I reading wrong?" He pouts, eyes never once leaving mine. He drags his hands up and down my thighs, making me want to melt. In a bad way. No matter how my body reacted to him, I knew that he was too scary for me to enjoy being taunted by.

"I am." I mutter, clenching my jaw making sure I looked anywhere but him. My response was short, brief, very clear. But he didn't believe it.

"You're lying to me, Sarah. I think I have to teach you a little lesson before your friends get here, hm? You know, make sure you be a obedient little girl and keep your mouth shut?" He uses his position of his hands on my thighs to boost himself up to a standing position, walking away from me. I knew that whenever he'd walk away, when he'd come back it'd be hell for me. Whether he was grabbing a tool, or deciding how i'd be punished. I didn't want to be today. I just wanted to live peacefully.

"Please, sir. You don't have to punish me again to assure I won't tell anybody. I would never." I squeak out, tears welling in my eyes. Maybe this was it then. Maybe this was my life. Being kept a miserable puppet attached to his strings. I didn't know why he was so hell bent on me not telling anybody. He knew that he couldn't be harmed by any life forces. Maybe this was just a power tactic.

He stops dead in his tracks, turning on his heels. He stalks back over toward me and holds his hands out for me to grab. Thinking of my peace and my safety today I take his hands and stand to my feet, limbs shaking from fear.

As I stand up, he stares into my eyes, his own seeming to soften. He does this for a while, perhaps still attempting to figure me out.

"You're scared of me. That's what it is." He concludes, pressing his forehead lightly against mine before pulling it back in order to get a better look at me. He seems to say this with no emotion. He wasn't upset or shocked at this hypothesis. More like pleased.

I gulp, not responding, "You're afraid I'll push you onto that bed and spânk you until you're kícking and crÿing, begging for mercy. You're scared that after, I'll fùck the shīt out of you—which you secretly enjoy— until you're throbbing down there from the ache of orgasming so much and so hard that you can't even count it or realize it." He holds my hands tighter, pushing me back to sit on the bed with his knee. I curse myself for the pleasure I felt from his dírty talk. The way it awakened me below which I felt no words of the sort should ever.

"You're scared of admitting to the pleasure, the thrill, the anxiety that all of this brings you. You're afraid that you like it, only because it seems taboo to you." He pushes me onto my back not straddling me like I thought came next. Instead he glides his hands along my hip bone, and up to my stomach sending shivers down my spine. The way he slowly feels beneath my shirt gives me goosebumps as I shut my eyes in shame. Maybe he was right. Right about everything.

"But darling, fear is what holds people back. If you want to be free? Be happy? What you've got to do is forget the fear. Let it go."


End file.
